Dinner Parties
by dammitanders
Summary: Elliot Hawke is expecting a visit from the Viscount, much to his displeasure. Anders is overjoyed and the two just can't seem to get along over it, hilarity insues. Rate M for smut and language. M!Hawke/Anders


"What do you think?"

"Honestly?" Hawke cocked his head to the side and leaned back in his armchair to get a better view. "Purple's just not your color. Why don't you try magenta or something?"

"Because magenta is just a really bright pinkish purple."

"How was I supposed to know that useless bit of information? Is that what they teach you in the Circle? Thank the Maker my father kept me out of there."

Anders glared at him and fumbled with a loose thread on the dark purple robes. Hawke hadn't even told him why they were shopping for robes. It all seemed so stupid. His were perfectly fine, sure they had holes every here and there, and the ends were fraying and the belts were a little too tight because he'd been filling out more but they still fit and there was no need to spend money on him just because his robes were unappealing.

"How about white, darling?" Hawke ran his tongue over his teeth, the color coming to him from a glance of the pearly whites. It was routine they be brushed every morning, for five minutes, until it _hurt_.

"White? Really?" Anders stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Don't you think it'll make you look angelic?"

"No. I think it will make bloodstains a living hell to get out, not to mention puss and…other bodily fluids." His pale cheeks developed a pink tinge and he glanced at his feet.

"Damn. Well. Looks like you're stuck with those drab old things." Hawke sighed and pointed with the tip of his foot at Anders robes hanging over the door to the dressing room.

"I never said I wanted new robes! But if I don't get new ones soon I'm going to prancing about Kirkwall without any clothes on because they've worn away to nothing!" Anders stuck out his lower lip in the all too familiar pout. Hawke turned his face away and groaned in the back of his throat.

"Don't give me that face. Besides…you've got a flawless body. Show it off, Darling." With that he pushed himself out of the seat and crossed the small space in two strides, grabbing Anders by his biceps and pulling him into a hug.

"Kirkwall has a strict nudity policy. Not that that bothers you at all." Anders pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache setting in, pounding in the back of his head. Hawke could be so annoying sometimes. Really, really, really annoying. "How about black?"

"Black what?"

"Black robes."

"How about for your name-day?"

"But that's forever from now!"

"No buts, unless we're talking about yours. Which is flawless I might add…" Hawke ran his tongue along his lip and squeezed the other mage's rear through the robes. Anders glared at him and smacked his hand. _Pervert_… but such was to be expected with the other. "Speaking of your ass—"

"No." Anders silenced him with a chilling glare, and pushed the other away. "It's getting to be dusk, it's time to get back to the estate." He spun around and grabbed his robes off the door and began getting dressed, keeping Hawke out of groping distance using his foot.

As they exited the shop, hand in hand –much to Hawke's displeasure – Anders couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Why can't you just borrow some of my robes?" Hawke attempted to slip his hand out of the apostate's firm grasp.

"I'm not a muscular giant." Anders rolled his eyes and elbowed his lover in the stomach. As if to help prove his point the mage's elbow throbbed with a dull ache as he swung it back to his side. "And I don't like wearing the same clothing that was just picked off a decaying slaver corpse…I say that with love, Love."

"I wash them! Well Orana does. Imagine if I didn't…ugh." They stopped in front of Hawke's estate, and the bigger mage began fishing in his finery pockets for his keys. Anders sighed and reached up on the tips of his toes to kiss the other's nose and pulled the big golden key out of his jacket pocket. "Thanks."

"If it's anything close to what you do in your robes then you should wash those things twice." Anders unlocked the door and tossed the key into the basket set on the table next to the door.

"I do that naked." Hawke snorted, smacking the mage on the arse as he passed. He said quick hellos to his mother, Bodahn, Orana, and Sandal as he passed through the main room of the estate and headed straight for his room. Anders followed behind at a slower pace, a scowl on his face as he rubbed his stinging backside. Even through the layers of cloth it stung. _Damn him_.

"Not what I meant," he growled under his breath and continued up the stair. Hawke had left his coat outside their room, he might have been overly hygienic but he was a total slob all the same. He stalked into the bedroom and folded his lover's jacket before setting it down on the clothes basket.

"Are you done being obsessive compulsive?" Hawke's voice startled the mage and he spun around quickly, he'd been adjusting a corner on the jacket that was sticking out to his disliking and now it was completely askew.

"You made me mes…" Anders chewed on his lower lip to get his jaw to snap back into place.

Hawke was standing at the entrance to the washroom only in his smalls, a trail of clothing leading to the occupied doorway. "I'm going to take a bath…care to join me?" He smirked before turning around, shimmying out of his undershorts and slipping out of view.


End file.
